


Fourteen Days and Four Dozen Eggs

by MandalaRose



Series: Stay With Me [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Claire Novak's Parents, Covid-19 Related, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Firefighter Dean Winchester, Humor and Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, NO ONE IN THE STORY ACTUALLY HAS COVID-19 THOUGH, Teacher Castiel (Supernatural), Toddler Claire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandalaRose/pseuds/MandalaRose
Summary: “I told you we were down to a dozen eggs. You bought three dozen more. We now have four dozen eggs, Dean. For a family of three.”“You can make hard-boiled eggs,” Dean counters as he leans over to capture Cas’ frowning mouth in a kiss.“And deviled eggs.”Cas’ lips twitch.“And egg salad.”As the Milton-Winchester household prepare to hunker down and #flattenthecurve, Dean makes a trip to the grocery store, for what wassupposedto be their normal weekly grocery run.  After all, they aren't the kind of people to panic and over-buy, right?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: Stay With Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479386
Comments: 95
Kudos: 462
Collections: Lock Down Fest





	Fourteen Days and Four Dozen Eggs

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear friends! I am so, so very happy to be talking to you right now. I hope you and yours are all happy and safe. My family are all well so far and we're doing what we can to help flatten that curve. I'm incredibly fortunate that my husband and I both have jobs that have placed us on teleworking and my heart goes out to those who are struggling with possible financial insecurity during this crisis on top of all the other virus-related anxieties. 
> 
> For those new to the story, this is the first time stamp to my previous work, _Stay With Me, Sweetheart,_ though it can be read as a standalone. It's also being posted as a part of Lock Down Fest, a multi-fandom mini fest dedicated to lifting spirits during the coronavirus pandemic. If you like this and are interested in reading more quarantine-inspired fics, check out the rest of the collection. A huge thank you to [EllenOfOz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz) and [LanaSerra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanaSerra/pseuds/LanaSerra) for the excellent and quick beta work! You are both the best!
> 
> This time stamp takes place in between the final chapter and the epilogue. I wrote this last weekend and already things have changed drastically from where they were in the story. For example, all KS schools are now closed through the rest of the school year, which was not the case at the time that I wrote this. Please know that all information presented in this story was accurate as of the time it was written and the date reflected in the story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this look at how our favorite idiots in love are handling the stress of this very stressful and frightening time. I'm dedicating it to some very special fandom friends of mine. You'll see some of their names mentioned within. To my Trashcan loves, this is for all of you, a little pick-me-up during a dark time. I couldn't fit all of your names in here, but you are each so very dear to me and I am both better and happier for knowing you.

**Saturday, March 14, 2020**

Today, 9:30 AM

Sam Winchester SENT:

Hey Cas. I know you guys usually do your shopping on Sunday, but check out these pictures from last night. Are you going to be able to get everything you need for Claire? I keep reading things about stores being completely out of meat and milk.

Cas glances at the two photos his boyfriend’s brother has texted him, cataloguing rows of empty grocery store display cases, before responding.

Today, 9:31 AM

You SENT: 

Dean is out now. ALDI gets a new shipment in every night, so we’re hoping if he gets there early enough, there will still be plenty to choose from.

Today, 9:32 AM

Sam Winchester SENT: 

Are you guys stocking up?

Cas rolls his eyes. Dean had asked him the same thing and he gives Sam the answer he gave his boyfriend early this morning, as he dressed and prepared to head out for their weekly grocery shopping trip.

Today, 9:32 AM

You SENT:

Do you mean are we going to hoard valuable resources that our friends and neighbors are in just as much need of and contribute to the growing supply shortages and mass hysteria? No. We are just getting our usual groceries, plus a few extra shelf staples in case we do end up having to self-quarantine. 

Today, 9:33 AM

Sam Winchester SENT: 

Sounds sensible.

Today, 9:33 AM

You SENT: 

Your brother didn’t seem convinced. I’m not even sure what people are doing with all of this extra food. I suppose you can freeze extra meat and milk, but produce? Why are the produce bins empty? All of that food is going to spoil in a week and then it won’t be good for anyone. 

Shaking his head, Castiel sets down his phone and goes about his usual Saturday morning chores. He cleans up the cereal mess two-year-old Claire left at the countertop, sopping up exuberantly sloshed milk and unsticking Cheerios from both the counter and stool, before rinsing out her bowl and adding it to the dishwasher. Checking in on his daughter to find her happily pulling every single toy out of her toy bin and gleefully tossing them around the living room, Cas sighs and resigns himself to cleaning up  _ that  _ mess after making the beds and starting the laundry.

He takes a moment to finish filling out the birthday card he’d picked up for his friend, Anni, another parent at Claire’s daycare. Her son is about the same age as Claire and they’ve been arranging playdates for the past several months. He’d intended to give this card to her in person at her birthday celebration this evening, but of course, that’s been cancelled along with most other events. By the time it reaches her in the mail it’ll be several days too late, but he figures late is better than never. He feels a pang for his friend, as he knows just how much she’d been looking forward to this evening. Castiel has learned much in the past year about the importance of spending time with friends. 

_ Anni, _

_ I hope that despite the circumstances, you were able to find some joy in your day. At a time when things seem so bleak, we must search for things worth celebrating and you, my friend, are worthy of celebration.  _

_ All my love, _

_ Cas _

__

Card signed and envelope stamped and addressed, Cas pulls out his phone and opens his messenger app, tapping on the group chat icon with the University of Illinois logo. The group, surprisingly enough, had been created by Balthazar, who’d been over the moon when Castiel finally took advantage of Dean’s offer and reached out to him via Facebook. It turned out that Bal was still in contact with a significant number of their old friends from undergrad and he was adamant they would be as excited as he’d been to learn that “dear Cassie is still alive.” He was right and Castiel had quickly found himself surrounded by an online community of friends spanning the globe. They’d all been working on a plan to reconnect in Chicago this May, but it’s looking more and more like that’s not going to happen. 

Pushing down his disappointment, Castiel quickly catches up on his friends’ updates from last night and this morning. Most have posted the latest news from their states and countries regarding the virus and measures taken to prevent its spread. Those still in Illinois and a few other places, like Ohio and Washington state, are already under stricter restrictions than Kansas, with schools and all non-essential businesses closed for at least a month. Some are trying to make arrangements to work from home, while others are worried because they have jobs where teleworking just isn’t an option or because they or their family members are  immunocompromised . There are happy messages too, though. Laughter over fond memories and shared jokes. A hilarious Dr. Sexy meme that Cas makes a mental note to show Dean later. Personal triumphs like a screenshot of the University of Illinois web page informing Lana she has successfully submitted her final thesis project (for her second master’s degree) or the cover of Mal’s first soon-to-be-published novel. Castiel’s heart swells with affection and gratitude for his friends. He hadn’t realized how lonely and isolated he’d become until he started venturing out of his shell again and now, more than ever, he’s grateful to have such an incredible support network to fall back on.

Smiling down at a picture Bal had posted last night from their freshman year of the two of them, arms around one another’s shoulders, sandwiched between Rachel and Jenn on one side and Christa and Mary on the other, he sends off a message updating the group on his current status and telling him that he hopes the virus restrictions don’t put too much of a damper on their weekends. It’s only a moment before Bal’s picture pops up with his response.

SAT AT 10:43 AM

Balthazar

Perish the thought, Cassie, darling.

Shaking his head with a fond eye roll, he slips his phone back into his pocket, grimacing as he contemplates what “social distancing” might look like for Bal. When he’d mentioned his concerns to Dean that he felt Bal might not take the situation seriously enough, Dean’s immediate response had been a snorted, “What, you mean limiting the size of the orgy to less than ten people isn’t good enough for you, Cas?”

It’s not until lunchtime that he starts to wonder what’s taking Dean so long at the store. Perhaps the chaos started bright and early today and the stores are already overwhelmed with panic buyers. Announcements over the past two days that several area school systems and businesses are closing for the next few weeks to help limit the spread of COVID-19 have sent people into even more of a frenzy than they’d already been experiencing with the ridiculous over-buying of toilet paper and hand sanitizer. Now people are hoarding food as well. The high school where Cas teaches English is on Spring Break next week, but he’s anticipating there may be an announcement about additional time off before they’re scheduled to return. 

He can’t help but feel frustrated with the hoarding. He understands the mindset. No one wants to have to make the choice of whether or not to go out for needed supplies if someone in their home or neighborhood ends up contracting the illness, but people are buying far more than they’ll need for even a month-long quarantine. He and Dean were seriously concerned last night when they saw photos of empty dairy cases, that they may not be able to find milk for Claire. Fortunately, at two, Claire is old enough that she doesn’t  _ need _ milk every day, but still. He’s heard reports already of people over-buying formula, diapers, and nursery water as well. A shortage of those items would have serious consequences for young infants in their community. 

At a sudden squeal, Cas looks up from the dishes he’s unloading to see that Claire has left her spot at the table and is now happily running around covered in Greek yogurt ranch dip, brandishing a carrot stick in each hand. He shakes his head and grabs a baby wipe from the package they keep in the kitchen for exactly this reason, wondering afterwards if he should start limiting his use of disposable wipes, just in case. For now though, he chases after a giggling Claire, wrapping his arms around her from behind as he swipes the wipe over her messy face.

“Look at you, sweet girl. You’re a mess,” he chuckles. “Ranch dip stays at the table, Claire. Do you want more or are you all done with your carrots?” 

Claire tips her head to the side for a moment and frowns, considering the question with the gravity of one about to make a life-altering decision, before finally nodding and announcing, “All done!” With a still slightly-ranchy grin, she hands over her carrot sticks and allows Cas to wipe her hands before running off again. 

He’s still grinning fondly after her retreating figure when he hears Dean’s key in the door. Hurrying to open the door for his boyfriend, his eyes widen at the six large grocery totes Dean has somehow managed to haul to and from their building’s elevator on his own. Each bag is filled to the top. Two loaves of bread actually look as if they’re about to topple from where they’re perched on top of a tote full of heavier items. 

“Dean, what did you buy? I thought you were just going to get our usual stuff?” he asks as he takes three of overflowing totes and half-carries, half-drags them to the kitchen.

“I just got a few extras,” Dean huffs, out-of-breath from his trek to their apartment. “There’s actually a couple more,” he adds as Cas’ mouth drops open. “I’ll be right back.”

Bewildered, Castiel turns to unpack the totes on the counter as his boyfriend disappears back down the hallway. In the first tote alone, he pulls out four containers of raspberries, four containers of blackberries, two large containers of blueberries, and three bunches of bananas, his irritation rising with each item.

Another tote contains six one-pound packages of ground beef, a large roast, two packs of boneless chicken breasts, and… salmon? Who “stocks up” on fresh salmon? A third holds two bags of apples, two bags of pears, and a large bag of rice. He’s not sure how Dean even carried that one from the Impala’s parking spot behind their building to the elevator, firefighter’s muscles or not.

He’s only halfway through putting away the six totes in front of him (and who knows how many more Dean is about to return with) and the refrigerator is already nearly full. At the bottom of the third bag he finds the (very lengthy) receipt from ALDI and when he sees exactly how much Dean got and how much he  _ spent _ , his annoyance flares into full-blown anger.

“This is everything,” Dean puffs, setting three more totes on the already crowded countertop. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Dean, what is all this?” Cas looks, wild-eyed from tote to tote.

“I told you, I bought a few extras, you know, just in case.” His boyfriend runs his hand over the back of his neck in that sheepish motion that Cas usually finds endearing. Usually.

“A  _ few _ extras? Dean, this is an  _ obscene _ amount of food. And most of it’s perishable. Not only do we not have any hope of eating it all before it goes bad, we don’t even have space to store all of this.”

“It’s not  _ that _ much,” Dean begins to defend weakly, but Cas cuts him off, recounting the contents of shopping totes one through three.

“Claire loves blueberries,” his boyfriend protests.

“Yes, she does. Which is why we still have half the container that we bought last week, along with the unopened package of cheddar cheese slices and deli ham that you’ve now bought  _ two more _ of.”

Dean starts to wilt under Cas’ piercing glare and quickly shifts from defensive to salvage-mode.

“It’s not that bad. We can freeze all the meat. And the bread.”

“Mmhmm,” Cas agrees sarcastically, arms crossed. “And how about the broccoli, cauliflower, celery, bell peppers, and  _ four _ packages of mushrooms? What are we going to do with four packages of mushrooms?”

Hunching his shoulders, Dean mumbles, “They’re for the steaks.”

“Steaks? You panic-bought  _ steak _ in case we’re quarantined?”

“I was hungry?”

“Well, I hope you stay hungry for the next week and a half because that’s about how long you have to eat all of this produce before it goes bad.”

“I just…” Dean leans back against the counter and looks at Cas with pleading eyes. “I still have to work during all of this virus stuff and I worry about leaving you and Claire here on your own when I’m gone for twelve to twenty-four hours at a time. I just wanted to make sure you’d have everything you need, so you don’t have to take her out to some corona-infested store while I’m gone.”

In spite of himself, Cas feels his metaphorical ruffled feathers smoothing down with his well-meaning, if hopelessly overreacting, boyfriend’s words. At least, he does until he catches sight of the receipt again, next to Dean’s hand on the countertop.

“You spent three hundred and forty-two dollars,” he argues, “at  _ ALDI _ . Thank goodness it’s a discount store. This would have been at least five hundred anywhere else. We can’t afford to waste that much money on food. You spent more than twice our weekly grocery budget and in case you’ve forgotten, even if I don’t send her, I still have to pay for Claire’s daycare next week.”

Dean winces, knowing what a sore spot finances are for Cas. As public servants, neither of them make a lot of money. They’ve been trying to save up for a down payment on a house and every penny counts. Cas stares helplessly into the fridge, still feeling frustrated with his boyfriend, but not wanting this to blow up into a bigger argument than it needs to be, which he knows is where they’re headed if he doesn’t cool down. His anxiety tends to cause little issues to spiral into much larger ones if he lets it and he’s been working really hard recently to keep that from happening.

Sighing he rubs a hand across his forehead before turning to look into the apologetic face of the man he loves. “I don’t even know where to put all of this. I’m going to go fold laundry. You are going to find somewhere to put all this food, then you’re going to put Claire down for her nap. Please.”

“Absolutely. No problem,” Dean agrees immediately, so clearly trying to look eager and helpful that Cas has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. He’s not ready to let Dean off the hook quite yet.

Once in the laundry room, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at his earlier text messages with Sam, before opening one to his wife instead.

Today, 12:34 PM

You SENT: 

Your brother-in-law is an idiot.

Pulling clothes from the drier, Castiel alternates between placing folded items in the basket on top and hanging his dress shirts and pants on the bar behind him. He’s less than halfway through his load when Jess responds.

Today, 12:46 PM

Jess Winchester SENT: 

Duh. But what did he do this time?

Recounting Dean’s adventure in disaster-prepping, Cas sends Jess a list of all the foodstuffs Dean over-bought. That one text bubble takes up his entire phone screen. Her response brings an unwilling grin to his face.

Today, 12:50 PM

Jess Winchester SENT: 

🤣🤣🤣

OMG

STOP

I’M DYING

Today, 12:52 PM

You SENT:

Your sympathy is touching.

Shaking his head with a small smile, he returns to his laundry. He’s finished up the rest of his folding and is busy mating socks when his phone buzzes with Jess’ next message.

Today, 12:59 PM

Jess Winchester SENT:

Oh, but I do sympathize, though. Really, Sam’s just as bad. He’s been in hyper-nerd mode since this whole thing blew up. Every time I turn around, it’s “So get this, according to this article, coronavirus has an infection rate 20 times that of the flu.”

I might put myself in self-quarantine just to get some peace.

This draws an actual laugh from Cas and he’s grinning widely as he types his response.

Today, 1:00 PM

You SENT: 

That does sound like Sam. Apparently overreacting is an inherited Winchester trait.

Today, 1:01 PM

Jess Winchester SENT:

Definitely. And Dean’s not the only one panic-buying. 

Sam hasn’t bought any food, but we do now have an entire pharmacy’s worth of vitamin and immune supplements, more hand sanitizer than we can use in a year, and bleach… I will never have to buy bleach again.

In fact, you’re all getting bleach for your birthdays.

Still chuckling, his mood considerably lighter after his conversation with Jess, Cas tosses his phone on top of the folded laundry and carries the basket to his and Dean’s bedroom, where he starts putting away the clothes, talking to himself absently as he tries to fit all of their white undershirts into the same drawer.

“Three bags of spinach. He doesn’t even  _ like _ spinach.”

“Yeah, but you do,” comes a quiet voice from the bedroom doorway where he’s leaning against the frame. “I thought you could freeze it and add it to those smoothies you make after your runs.”

Straightening, Cas feels the last of his irritation with Dean seeping out of him and this time, he lets it go. If the earnest, open, adoring way Dean is looking at him weren’t already making it impossible to stay angry with him, the knowledge that everything Dean does, no matter how boneheaded it may seem from the outside, is out of love for Cas and their daughter certainly would. He’s not sure what’s happening on his face when he looks back at his boyfriend, but whatever it is, Dean must see it as encouraging, because he pushes off from the doorframe and takes a step toward the dresser.

“So, is this it?” he asks, looking at Cas seriously. At Cas’ wrinkled brow, he elaborates, “Is this the reason you leave me? Dumped over extraneous Brussels sprouts and unnecessary deli meat? Gotta say, this definitely isn’t how I thought our relationship would end, though I’m not even a little surprised it’s my fault.” The corners of Dean’s full, pouty lips have ticked upwards by the time he finishes his sentences and steps into Cas’ space, resting large, warm hands on Cas’ hips. 

Rolling his eyes, Cas wraps his arms loosely around Dean’s neck. “I’m not going to leave you over Brussels sprouts. I would, however, like to lodge a formal complaint.”

“Oh yeah? I can help you with that, sir,” Dean smirks, placing a kiss on Cas’ scruffy jawline.

Lifting his chin to give his boyfriend more access, Cas asks, “Is there a process for this?” 

“Oh, definitely.” Dean kisses down his neck, walking him steadily backwards toward their bed.

“A form to fill out?”

Pressing him down onto the mattress, Dean plants another kiss on his clavicle.

“Is it online?”

“Mmm,” Dean hums as he straddles Cas’ hips. “Is that really necessary, sir? Over a few extra groceries? I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.” Dean waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Cas levels him with a glare.

“I told you we were down to a dozen eggs. You bought  _ three dozen _ more. We now have four dozen eggs, Dean. For a family of three.”

“You can make hard-boiled eggs,” Dean counters as he leans over to capture Cas’ frowning mouth in a kiss.

“And deviled eggs.”

Cas’ lips twitch.

“And egg salad.”

Finally, the tension between them snaps and they dissolve into giggles, Dean slumping overtop of Cas, face pressed against Cas’ shoulder. Once they’ve laughed themselves breathless, Dean pulls back enough to rest their foreheads together.

“Sorry I’m an idiot,” he whispers.

Feeling a sharp pang of regret, Cas slides his hands up under Dean’s shirt, running his hands over the firm planes and muscles of Dean’s back. 

“You’re not an idiot,” he says reassuringly. “I’m sorry I got so upset.”

Dean sits up and moves to get off Cas, but Cas plants his hands firmly on Dean’s hips, anchoring him in place.

“It’s okay. I get it. I  _ may  _ have gone a bit overboard.” 

At his raised eyebrow, Dean pouts. “It all seemed so reasonable at the time.”

Chuckling, Cas shakes his head. “Of course it did. Because every other person there was doing the same exact thing. So, when you started, you were putting the normal amount of things in your cart, but then saw Sharon next to you with two twenty-four packs of Charmin and half a steer’s worth of beef, you started to second guess yourself.”

The blush on Dean’s cheeks and the way he’s rubbing the back of his neck again tell Cas that his appraisal of the situation is fairly accurate. He smirks, feeling more than a little smug at knowing his boyfriend so well.

“I really am sorry, Cas. I guess my caveman brain just got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he says, tugging Dean down by his t-shirt for another kiss. “I love your caveman brain.”

Pulling off his glasses and setting them safely on the far side of the mattress, Castiel kisses his boyfriend deeply. Quickly slipping his hands back underneath Dean’s t-shirt, he slides them further and further upward along Dean’s heated skin, until they have to break apart so he can tug the navy-blue shirt over his boyfriend’s head. 

“And I love you,” he murmurs as he surges up to place heated kisses against Dean’s already flushed chest and shoulders.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Dean returns, ending on a groan as Cas trails a thumb across Dean’s left nipple while sliding his right hand down the back of the other man’s jeans.

“Off,” he growls. 

Dean chuckles. “Thought I was the one who was supposed to be makin’ up to you?”

“I’ll accept your apology much more quickly if it’s delivered naked.” 

Dean’s grin is nothing short of salacious as he sits up as tall as can while still straddling Cas’ lap on the bed. Slowly trailing a hand down his chest and the defined muscles of his abdomen, Dean’s fingertips graze the faint trail of hair starting below his belly button as they make their way, finally, to the button on his jeans. Lying trapped flat on his back as he is and desperate to see more, Cas pushes himself up as far as he can on his elbows without dislodging the gorgeous man in his lap.

Dean bites his bottom lip coyly as he slowly tugs his zipper downward, revealing crimson boxer brief’s beneath the denim. Reaching his hand into his pants and rubbing overtop his fabric-covered bulge, Dean leans backwards, settling himself on his heels to give his hand more room and bringing his ass down on Castiel’s own bulge, where it’s trapped inside the soft flannel pants he still favors wearing around the house.

At Cas’ responding moan, Dean chuckles and rocks his hips, pressing even harder against Cas’ throbbing cock and pulling a hiss from him.

“Fuck, Dean,” he pants, running his hands up Dean’s muscular thighs and grasping at his hips, suddenly uncertain whether he wants to push Dean off his aching cock or pull him down even further.

“Yes, dear,” his boyfriend quips before grinding down against him again. 

Dean’s hands finally find their way to Cas’ soft gray t-shirt, but only to tug on the hem before repeating his earlier order to Dean.

“Off.”

Not wasting any time, Cas cranes forward as far as he can and reaches behind him to pull the shirt over his head. It’s an uncomfortable angle, but Dean doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to vacate his position on Cas’ lap and Cas can’t really argue with that, so he makes do. 

Once divested of his shirt, Castiel collapses backwards onto the bed, looking up adoringly at his beautiful, half-naked boyfriend. Dean’s lust-filled gaze softens slightly as he meets Cas’ eyes and he smiles.

“Whatd’ya want, Cas?” 

“Touch me,” Cas breathes. “Please—Just touch me.”

Dean complies immediately, his big hands coming to rest on Cas’ sides, even as he asks, “Where?”

“Anywhere,” Cas answers. “I love when you touch me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean murmurs, running his hands upward along Cas’ sides, the right one trailing along the faded scar adorning his ribcage, “I love touching you. So much Cas. Love feeling every inch of you.”

Cas reaches upward as Dean leans down, sealing their lips in a kiss that’s as loving as it is lustful. Dean’s hands finish their trek up his sides after a brief detour to thumb over a nipple, sliding further up to his biceps and pushing his arms above his head. Cas willingly lets Dean manhandle him, craning his neck to find a better angle for ravishing Dean’s mouth while the man’s hands leave tingles across the delicate inner skin of his forearms before twining their fingers together and pressing Cas’ hands into the memory foam.

Moaning at the pseudo-restraint, Cas thrusts upward involuntarily, pulling an echoing moan from Dean.

“Okay, these pants gotta go,” he pants wetly against Cas’ collarbone.

“Fucking,  _ finally _ ,” Cas snarks back. 

“Is that another complaint?” Dean asks cheekily. “Should we add it to the list?”

“Yes,” Cas answers as Dean reluctantly crawls off him so they can both shimmy out of their remaining clothing. “I’d like to formally complain about you wearing pants. Some things just shouldn’t be allowed.”

“You’re such a dork,” Dean laughs as he crawls back onto the bed, sitting up on his knees, reddened cock jutting out proudly in front of him. Looking at the sleek, smooth skin of Dean’s cock with its delicate bead of precome at the tip sends a renewed wave of lust through Cas, who feels his own mercifully freed cock throb in response. 

Smirking at his boyfriend’s playful insult, he rolls to his side to rummage through the nightstand drawer for their lube. He’s just pulled out the half-filled bottle of Astroglide and is about to roll back over when he suddenly feels six feet of hot, solid firefighter pressed along his back. Dean’s lips press warm and wet against the back of Cas’ neck before moving to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Unable to repress either his moan or the accompanying shiver, Castiel sinks back against Dean’s warmth. His boyfriend’s hand trails over his hip and across his stomach, pulling tremors from Cas’ body as it slips down, past his very interested cock to cradle his balls instead. 

Feeling more than a little desperate, Castiel begins to rock his hips, the swell of Dean’s cock pressing against his ass as he does so. 

Dean’s tongue traces the shell of his ear and Cas whimpers.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Dean whispers in his ear, husky voice an octave lower than its usual timbre.

“Touch me,” Cas pleads again. “I need to feel your hand on my cock, Dean. Need to feel you so bad.”

“Lube,” Dean orders while leaving alternating kisses and nips up and down Cas’ neck. The hand fondling Cas’ sack pauses and turns palm up as Cas flips open the purple cap on the Astroglide bottle, shakily drizzling a generous amount of lube into Dean’s waiting hand.

Finally, as he sucks Castiel’s earlobe between his teeth, Dean wraps the lube-sick hand around Cas’ girth, stroking him firmly as Cas lets out a groan of relief.

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Dean. So good, love.”

“Yeah?” Dean keeps the pace of his strokes steady and even, thrusting against Cas with each pull. Once Cas is needily arching back against him, pushing desperately into each thrust, Dean pauses his ministrations long enough to plant a foot on the bed, his knee pointed toward the ceiling. He pulls Castiel’s top leg up over his own, effectively spreading Cas’ legs and leaving him even more restrained. Castiel feels open and exposed and it’s so fucking hot it’s a wonder he doesn’t come right then. 

Only Dean could make him feel this helpless and this safe at the same time. After so many years of having to be constantly on the alert, constantly looking for ways to protect himself, being able to be this vulnerable with the man he loves is a luxury Cas thinks will never grow old.

After returning to Cas’ cock for a few short strokes, Dean instead trails his hand lower, moving around Cas’ hip to ghost over the globe of his ass before teasing at his hole. Cas quivers as he’s wracked by a full-body tremor. 

“Mmm, like that?” Dean’s breath tickles the hairs on Castiel’s neck as his clever finger continues to trace maddening circles over Castiel’s hole.

“Fuck. Yes. So much yes,” Cas babbles. 

He feels Dean’s grin against the back of his neck as the passes over his opening become firmer, gentle presses deepening until the pad of Dean’s finger enters him. Cas’ body clenches at first at the sudden intrusion, even as his stomach flips in eagerness, but he forces himself to relax.

Dean rewards him with neck kisses and a deeper press of his finger. Cas shimmies, trying to somehow open himself even wider for Dean. Misinterpreting his fidgeting as discomfort, Dean pauses.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cas assures. “Just want more. Feels so good, Dean. I want to feel you inside me. Want that long cock of yours to split me open, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, you know how I love that mouth,” Dean groans, “But you’re still way too coherent. Full sentences? I need to up my game.”

And Dean does just that. He adds a second finger and presses deeper still, angling his hand until he’s able to graze Cas’ prostate on every thrust. It’s not long before Cas is reduced to a babbling, panting, sweaty mess, rocking back to meet Dean’s hand and begging for more.

“Fuck. Fuck me, Dean. Please. Need you. Need more. Need…”

“Shh,” Dean soothes. “I got you, sweetheart.”

Dean carefully lowers Cas leg back to the bed, sitting up to rub the tender muscles, which have stiffened up a bit from being held at an unnatural angle for so long. Even this far out from his accident, his legs still tend to get stiff when he spends too long in the same position. Cas allows himself a happy moan before reaching behind himself blindly, seeking to pull his boyfriend back against him.

Chucking, Dean acquiesces, taking only a moment to lube up his cock before lining up and sliding slowly into Cas’ eager heat. Cocooned in Dean’s embrace, Cas raises his top arm, wrapping long fingers around the back of his boyfriend’s neck to pull him in for a lingering kiss, while twining the fingers of his free hand with Dean’s. 

Dean’s thrusts are slow and even, seemingly trying to draw this moment, this connection, out for as long as possible, but even so, it’s not long before Cas feels his stomach grow taut as that familiar tension builds inside of him. Feeling the change in Cas, Dean moves his free hand from Cas’ chest to his cock, pumping it steadily and whispering encouragement into Castiel’s ear as he strokes him through his climax. 

Once Cas has finished with a sigh, Dean moves his hand to Castiel’s hip and begins pulling him back against his hips as he picks up the pace of his thrusting, chasing his own release at last and coming with a groan.

After allowing himself a few precious moments to drift in Dean’s arms, Cas moves to get up. Claire will be up from her nap soon and there’s more laundry to finish and approximately 742 smoothies to make before all that fruit goes bad.

“Stay,” Dean murmurs drowsily, tugging at Cas’ wrist.

Looking down at his love, cheeks ruddy from exertion and hair sex-ruffled enough to match his own, Cas smiles. A glance across the room shows him his phone, still sitting atop a pile of folded underwear, blinking with an incoming message, maybe another from Sam or Jess, or maybe Balthazar, Charlie, or Meg. It might even be Jo, after being prodded by Ellen to check in on them. 

He still doesn’t know if he’s going to go back to work next week or even next month. He doesn’t know how much worse COVID-19 will get before it gets better. And he really doesn’t know what they’re going to do with four dozen eggs and their toddler’s weight in produce. But what he does know, is that thanks to the beautiful man in his bed and to their friends and family, both old and new, he won’t be facing any of it alone.

He lies back down.

“Of course, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little addition to Sweetheart. It's certainly not the first time stamp I had planned, but it is the one that ended up needing to be written. I hope it brought a little love and laughter to you during this difficult time. 
> 
> I do have one more story for you today that I hope will bring you a smile. It answers a question several of you have asked me in your comments on Sweetheart.
> 
> On a sunny Saturday in February, my husband said he had a surprise for me and called me outside to the driveway, to see a strange man walking toward me. It wasn't until he got close enough for me to see the emergency medical services logo on his fleece that I realized who he must be.
> 
> He asked if I remembered him. I asked if I could hug him. It took us both a while to let go.
> 
> We spent the next few hours sitting around my dining room table with our spouses, sharing our stories of that day and everything that's happened since. I'm not going to share too many details, since it was a deeply personal experience that you've already read my side of. His side of it is his story and not mine to tell. But what I will share is that my thank you meant more to him than I ever could have imagined. First responders receive far fewer thank yous than you would ever imagine, especially not specific, detailed thank yous. So, please, thank the first responders and medical professionals in your lives, especially now, in these dangerous times when they're putting themselves on the front lines of this pandemic, day in and day out, to keep the rest of us safe. 
> 
> And in case you are wondering, yes, we still keep in touch. We're Facebook friends now and once life has returned to normal, we plan to get our families together for dinner. 😊
> 
> Thank you all, as always, for reading. Be well, my friends. Stay home and stay safe. 💖


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